The Chest

Based on my personal opinion of being nostalgic I would classify myself as not being so. I don't store many things away in boxes to pull out periodically to reminisce about days gone by. I prefer to have very little in our home and even with that preference I am continually amazed at the mass amount of stuff we collect as a family. In the words of Nancy Griffith, “Suitcases full of unnecessary plastic objects.”

Even with this “stuff” I still do not have lots of memorabilia, etc... I do have some carefully thought out pieces from my childhood...pictures of my grandparents, of my family in much younger years, a knife given to me by my grandfather. I also keep certain race tees...Survival of the Shawangunks, my one Ironman, the Comrades Marathon, my Leadville 100 belt buckle. Beyond a few items I deem highly important I choose not to hang on to very much. Perhaps I have chosen not to hang on to lots of stuff because I have moved many times in my life and packing up takes less time when one has fewer objects. Perhaps...

However, one could argue that I am very nostalgic and perhaps even a hoarder. What?! Although this is contradictory to my initial statement, I think there is a strong case for such. It is true that I do not hold on to 

many tangible items. Things I can touch, feel, hold and look at. But I do have a chest of wonderful items stored in a place always available to me. I don't need to go into the closet or trudge down into the basement to pull this chest of items out. Each is securely stored in my memory. Being at the ready, these items can be pulled up for viewing at any point. When I go to a bakery a certain smell always reminds me of my grandmother's homemade chocolate cake. I can almost taste it. Something else may cause me to appear to be staring into space, but I'm not. I'm staring at my grandfather sitting on the riverbank fishing. So content just to sit there beside me for hours on end even if the fish weren't biting. The list of items in my chest are endless...priceless.

As many of you know, most of my past writing has been about running. So, what does this chest have to do with running...everything. Although I often use running to analyze what is happening in life at a given moment, I also get to use it as time spent plundering through my chest of wonderful items. For example, as I stood watching Mikiele and the other children in our neighborhood awaiting the arrival of the bus this morning I come to understand that one of the local boys has a crush on my daughter. It reminded me of my first crush and girlfriend at that young age. So innocent, but so painful. Shortly after the bus arrived I began my morning run. As I started running I opened up my chest and poked around to find the memories of that time in life. I remember how my stomach felt, the pounding in my chest, and of course, the many really stupid things I did to try to get her attention. I think I got her attention, but am not so sure it was in the way I wanted. Her looking at me with a look that somehow said, “That boy is a dang fool!” was not the kind of attention I had wished for. But, in time I think I won her over. I think she has turned out to be a great person in spite of liking me at that young age.

Perhaps at some point time will take these items away from me, but I do not believe so. I may not be able to explain the meaning of the items to someone else, but I believe at any point in life I will always get to keep my chest of precious items. And as long as I am able to run I will occasionally use the time to poke around and find something I haven't seen in a long time. That's the interesting part of my chest...the items can change. Go for a run and open your own chest of wonderful items.

See you out there!

Double B